


Quarantineklok

by audlynb33



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Quarantine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23504233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audlynb33/pseuds/audlynb33
Summary: Going Down Klok 2:Electric BoogalooWhile being trapped in the dethsub for work is bad, but what will happen when Dethklok is trapped in the dethsub and isolated from each other with nothing to do? What will happen when isolation ends and they're still stuck under the ocean with nothing to do?
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	1. precautions

"The fucks youse mean we beingz depourtsded!?"

"Well Skwisgaar, due to the corona virus anyone abroad is currently required to return to their country of origin," repeated Charles, having already explained in greater detail what was happening several times.

"Buts we lives here! Dis ams our house!" Toki pointed to the ground demonstrably. 

"Yes, but you're not citizens," Charles explained, again. "I did try several times to, ah, get you both to apply for citizenship but-"

"Buts wes ams Scandanevians! Ams _ways_ betters den beengs a, _'mericunts_ , citizens." Skwisgaar stated proudly.

"Th' fuck you jus' call us-"

Charles cut off Pickles before they could go of topic yet again. "Regardless, the situation is that you're both being deported and mordhaus is enacting strict quarantine guideline," he couldn't hide his exasperation anymore. "So these are our options: Skwigaar and Toki fly back home and we quarantine mordhaus, or we all go into international waters and spend quarantine in the dethsub."

"Welp," Pickles slapped a hand down on the table and turned to Skwisgaar, "have fun livin' with yer mom asshole."

"Fucks that! If I has to lives wit my mothers so does alls of youse!"

"No I fuckin' don't!"

"Ams whats onlys fairs!

"Ha! Sucksch for you guysch." Murderface chimed in smugly.

"Murderface," corrected Pickles, "you'd be livin' with yer grandma."

"Oh fuck that!" Murderface stood up, "I'll go out and get the disease now if that's what we're doing."

"Ja, seriouslys," Skwisgaar agreed.

"What're the chances we even get it anyway? It's for old people ain't it?" Pickles turned to Charles who was seated with his hands folded and staring a hole through the table.

"Well, ah," Charles looked up to address the group, "while it is more dangerous for people who are older, your age group still carries a known 20% death rate; and as the situation is still evolving. And when they say "young people" are at a lower risk, what they mean is 19 years old or younger. Additionally, Pickles, as the oldest with a history of asthma, you're actually the most at risk."

"…" Pickles leaned back in his chair, "shit."

A moment of silence passed before Charles spoke up again. "This is a time sensitive issue guys and we've been over everything multiple time. I need an answer."

Nathan stood up, "We'll quarantine in the dethsub," and left the conference room.

The rest of the band followed, effectively ending the meeting.

Charles stared down at the ten items listed on his meeting agenda. He checked off the first one which read "Quarantine Arrangements" before packing up. He turned to the empty conference room on his way out and sighed, "I tried."


	2. Bullet with Butterfly Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dethklok is forced to isolate on the dethsub for two weeks.  
> Quarantine: Day 4

Pickles laid on his bed, facedown and limbs spread like a starfish, when the klokateer knocked on the door.

“Your dinner is ready, my lord. Permission to enter?”

Pickles shot up- this was his chance! He went to the door and crouched down like a football player waiting for the play to kick off then said, “Come on in.”

The door slid open, a food cart rolled into the room, and the klokateer was body-checked to the ground. Pickles sprinted out the door to freedom!- which turned out to be running face first into another door. 

As Pickles held his face and cussed at the door, the klokateer got up and started placing Pickle’s dinner on the desk. The bedrooms on the dethsub were usually pretty bare- given that time in the dethsub was usually meant to be spent in the studio- but arrangements had to be made for quarantine purposes. The rooms had been expanded to include a desk, basic gym equipment, a minifridge and pantry cabinet for drinks and snacks (kept fully stocked), a microwave, a wall mounted flatscreen, and a laptop that was specially designed to maintain internet connection within the dethsub (and could be remotely controlled by Offdensen). The second door was also a new addition.

“Sire, airlocks were added to each bedroom entry to prevent contamination,” and to keep Dethklok in their rooms, “the second door will only open for essential personnel.” 

Pickles started to swear at the klokateer rather than the door. The klokateer just stood in the doorway with the cart- they would be terminated if they violated protocol but also could not force the members of dethklok to follow that same protocol. After a few minutes Pickles resigned himself to dinner and left the airlock, allowing the klokateer to leave. Now they only had to do this four more times. 

\--

“Hey, didya know de’re airlocks t’ our rooms now?” Pickles said over Talklok, the app developed by Dethkolk Scientists to allow Dethklok band members to communicate with one another by text, voice and/or video while in CFO-imposed quarantine on the dethsub.

“Yeah, found that out the hard way,” replied Murderface, rubbing his forehead at the memory.

“Da robots t’inks of everyt’ing.” Skwisgaar was barely paying attention to the video call as he restrung his guitar. He had brought three with him, but during the four days spent in isolation he’d broken a string on each of them and was forced to fix his own guitar. 

“At leasts he let us takes ours stuff wit’ us,” Toki held up a half-finished model plane, “usuallies we ‘s just  
workins de whole times we here.”

“He let _you_ bring yur stuff,” Pickles pouted, “he wouldn’t let me take MY stuff wit’ me.” Stuff, in Pickle’s case, being literal pounds of drugs.

“He’s being a real hard-ass about this quarantine thing. And not how he’s usually a hard-ass, like, a mega bitch of a hard-ass.” Nathan was barely visible on camera since his room still had scream activated lighting and he refused all lamps aside from one small desk lamp he could use to write. He now lived in the dark, in isolated, in a windowless room under the ocean, fuckin’ brutal. “I can’t believe he’s seriously making us do another week of this.”

“We have a week and three days left,” corrected Pickles.

“What do you mean?”

“It ain’t been a week yet. It’s been four days.”

“Oh...FUCK!”

“Yeah.”

“Ya, but Is cans plays guitars over de intarcomms of de subs now!” Skwisgaar had finished stringing his guitar, “I’lls be tryings it tomorrows, so sends me songs requiest... Ands _onlys_ sends songs requeist, ors else I wills find a ways to kills you Moiderface.”

“Why me!?” exclaimed an offended Murderface, even though he knew exactly why him.

“Youse knows axactly why.” 

A soft chiming sound came over the intercom signaling the five minute warning to lights out which had been established to keep the boys on a regular schedule. Not that Charles could actually force the boys to keep the regular schedule. They could still turn on their lamps and have a midnight snack or play on their phones all night; but he could have all the dethsub lighting turn off automatically at the same time each night, as encouragement.

“Such a fucking hard-ass.” Nathan shut his laptop to get ready for bed. He took off his pajama pants and grabbed a bag of chips before plopping down on his bed to watch a French New Wave film. With subtitles he could crunch chips and still know what people were saying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bullet with Butterfly Wings cause despite all his rage Pickles is still just a rat in a cage


	3. caveman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine: Day 5

Nathan woke up the next morning- well afternoon- to the sound of guitar coming through the intercom. It was some simple, upbeat melody. Toki probably picked it. There was a cart left by the door, brunch most likely. He groggily got up and went to the bathroom. The room had been slightly expanded but the bathroom was still tiny and he spent half his time in there picking up the things he knocked off the counter. It didn’t help that the only active lights in the bathroom were the red auxiliary lights that never turned off. He only really knew it was day because the dim light in the airlock was on. It’s light could reach the small window on the door but stopped before entering the room. 

Nathan moved on to the food. He took the cover off his plate of food and picked it up with one hand, then he grabbed a fork off the cart with his other hand. He proceeded to eat standing next to the cart. Waking up and being cognizant right afterwards was never Nathan’s strong suit, but being in perpetual darkness. But by the time he pressed the button to summon the klokateer to remove the cart and dishes he realized the same song was still playing over the intercom.

He opened his phone to ask how long the song was to see a slew of notifications. Going to the beginning of the messages and skimming them until he got to the present Nathan gathered the following:

  * Toki had indeed chosen the song currently being played
  * The song currently being played had been playing for about two hours
  * Murderface and Pickles had asked in multiple colorful ways “Hey Skwisgaar, what actual fresh hell is this!?”
  * Skwisgaar had been playing the song that long, not because it was that long, but because Toki had requested the 10-hour version of it
  * But don’t worry, because Skwisgaar talked his down to a 5-hour version instead
  * Many more choice words from Murderface and Pickles directed at both Toki and Skwisgaar
  * Skwisgaar defending himself and his artistic choices 
  * The only thing Toki said during the entire exchange so far was “The songs called Caramelldansen UwU”



Having somewhat absorbed this information, Nathan determined his best course of action was to go back to bed. Only… he was actually awake now and… he couldn’t tune out the song. Nathan looked at the door, staring it down as though he could make it move. He could call another klokateer, the cart was already gone, and try to force them to open the second door. But that hadn’t worked last time…. Nathan looked at his hands then back to the door. It was a sturdy door, be he’d heard that about other doors he broke in the past, just maybe...

Had Charles not provided Nathan with a punching bag, or if the doors were any weaker, the quarantine would have been over.


	4. Blocked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine: Day 6

“And it really isn’t porn?” Nathan asked for the fifth time.

“No! It’sch just a normal website! Why doesche it have to be porn!” Muderface was getting tired of having to defend himself.

“One, because it’s you and two, why else would the website be blocked?”

“I don’t know! Maybe someone doeschn’t want me to know what’sche happening in the world. It could be a conschpiracy againscht me!”

“Not everyt’ing ams about youse Moiderface,” Skwisgaar was beyond bored of the video conference at this point. “Just use a normals porns site insteads of de blockeds ones.”

“It’sch not porn!”

“Okey, guys, guys,” Pickles chimed in,”maybe it really isn’t porn.”

“Thank you, Pickles.”

“That doesn’t mean he ain’t jackin’ off to it.”

“What!”

“Oh, that’s a good point,” Nathan nodded in agreement.

“Ja, he ams intos some, eugh, somes ...” Skwisgaar trailed off

“Somes reals weird shit?” Toki offered.

“Uh, yeah, excactlies. Weirds shit.”

“No I’m not! I like perfectly normal sex thingsche! They’re all perfectly normal! Normal, uh, except for- uh, for thingsche,” Murderface faltered, “There are some thingsche, uh, some sex stuff, I like that’sch cool too! It’sch just a lot of really cool, really normal sex stuff and… And this website isn’t for any of that anyway, it’sch for news!” 

“Hey, what’s that Murderface?” Pickles asked, “Yur sound cut out there.”

“Oh you fucking heard me.”

“Uh, no, we can’t hear you,” Nathan said glancing at Pickles. “We can’t hear you, right, Skwisgaar?”

“Whats?” Skwisgaar blinked a couple times, not realizing he was still in the conversation. 

“Maybes he turneds off his microsphone by accidentsiallies,” added Toki, unaware of what was happening but happy to help with a nonexistent problem nonetheless.

“Wait really? How do I fix it?” asked Muderface now convinced the problem was real.

“Wells first yous goes to settings ands-”

“There’s a shortcut to fixin’ it,” said Pickles, cutting off Toki. “So do ya see the power button? Is it glowing?”

“Uh, yeah, it’sch glowing? What doesche that mean?”

“See! There’s’ur problem! Ya wanna hold that button down till it stops glowing!”

“Okay.”

“But,” Toki was very confused, “ but Pickle, won’t thats just turns it off?”

Pickles just smirked as the square that was Murderface turned black, “Moron.”

_Eventually, Muderface was able to log back on. He spent the rest of the call silently scowling and slowly shaking his head at all of them. This made them laugh harder._


	5. open channel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine: Day 7

Some days they’d spend all day online together, even if they didn’t actively engage each other for most of the time. Some days they’d check in for a while and get bored, or get in a fight, or someone would just get too damn annoying and they’d log off one by one. Some days they just didn’t bother.

But a chat was usually open between Pickles and Murderface. 

At first, Pickles thought this would be a great time to get drunk and high and actually relax! Without any groupies or fans to entertain and no bandmates to babysit he could just do his thing. But being drunk alone got old fast and getting high was boring unless he got really high; but if he got really _really_ high he started to think about being locked in a room in a submarine in the bottom of the ocean with no idea what was going on in the world other than there was a pandemic and the only thing he knew about that was that it could kill him and that’s not much more than anyone else knew… Anyway there was some sobbing and trying to call Charles in the middle of the night only he wasn’t answering for some reason which led to swearing and sobbing. It was not relaxing.

At first, William Murderface believed that this was it. This would be the catalyst for Planet Piss™ to be born and conquer the world! He would write an album! Then he sat down to write and was left alone with his own thoughts while locked in a room, alone. There was also a fair amount of sobbing and swearing.

Eventually they made their own chat so they wouldn’t be so alone under the pretense that “Pickles is producing Planet Piss” or “I’m bullying Murderface” depending on who you asked. It gave Pickles someone to hang with while intoxicated and it kept William from being alone with himself for too long. It was a win-win. 

“So,” Pickles said, blowing smoke out of his mouth, “how’s that album? Or wait? Was it jus’ a single now?

“Acshually, it’sch a _rough concept outline_ ,” Muderface said indignantly. They were using the video call today but he could barely see Pickles through the layer of smoke.

“The fuck’s that ‘spose to be? Ot’er than complete bullshit, o’ course.”

“It’sch all about creating an idea to use asche a guideline that you can build off of. It’sch all about the concept. It’sch conscheptual.”

“What’s conceptual is you ev’r makin’ anything.”

“I can make thingsch!”

“Then fuckin’ do it!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you!”

“FUCK YOU!”

“ _FUCK YOU_!”

“No! Fuck you!”

“Ah, no. Fuck you!”

“No! Fuck _you_. Chrischt!” Muderface got up from his bed to walk around the room before sitting down again and muttering to himself for a few minutes. Pickles ignored him and continued smoking. 

Finally, Pickles turned back to the video call. “So, didja ev’r figure out why that website was blocked?”

“No,Toki couldn’t get around it either. We think Charlesch had it blocked.”

“But wasn’t it jus’ like, a news site? Like, it wasn’t even porn?”

“Yeah! That’sch what makesch it weird.”

“Huh,” Pickles set down his joint, “ya know, Nathan tried callin’ Charles again yesterday and it kept goin’a voicemail. And he sure as hell ain’t called us since he locked us up down ‘ere.” 

“Do you think he’sch ignoring usche?” Murderface asked morosely. “Do you think he put us away so we couldn’t fuck anything up while he did other stuff?”

Pickles sighed, “I guess, maybe… But ‘e usually answers the phone, or sends us updates or… somethin’.”

“If he’sch gonna abandon usche he could at leascht give usche internet without parental controls. I can’t do research for my album like thische.” 

Pickles burst into a fit of giggling.

“What’sch so funkin’ funny, huh?” Murderface glared into the camera.

“The idea of you doin’- ha ha he- “research” for a “album” is jus’- hahaha- it’s ridiculous- heehe,” Pickles continued to laugh as Murderface scowled.

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you! Heehaha...”


	6. Chit Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine: Day 8

Toki, being the only one with hobbies outside of music and partying, ended up carrying the conversation as quarantine dragged on.

“... and nows that’s Is dones with that plane I’ms gonna starts the new ones.”

“Uh huh, and that’s your last model right?” Nathan was slumped down in his desk chair, face barely visible in the glow of the laptop screen.

“Yeahs, but Is shoulds be gettins mores from Charles.”

“Hmm,” he stretched backwards, arching his back.

“His email said we’re gettin’ more stuff tomorrow, right?” asked Pickles.

“Psh, you actually read the email? Loser.” Muderface was still mad; Pickles just rolled his eyes.

“Acktuallies, de emails was froms Abigails.” said Skwisgaar, who decided to actually be part of the conversation today.

“Yup! Buts she says Charles mades the order, sos the stuffs ams from him.” Toki had actually read an email.

Nathan sat forward. “Why didn’t Charles send it?” 

“With us down ‘ere he’s prob’ly busy doing _im-port-ant work_.” Pickles held up a glass of brandy to demonstrate his meaning.

“Isn’t it a little early for brandy?”

“What? No. It’s like, ah… uh, what time is it?”

“My computers says it’s 5 at nights,” added Toki.

“Ja buts didn’ts yous change the times zones for a vidaeo games?” countered Skwisgaar.

“Oh, yeahs, I dids.”

“Le’see,” Pickles looked down at his laptop, “mine says it’s 8 pm. What the hell kinda time are you on Nate?”

“...But… didn't you guys just get breakfast a few hours ago?”

A virtual array of heads all nodded no while giving him odd looks.

“Nathan,” Pickles was using his band-mom voice, “when exactly have you been goin’ to bed and wakin’ up?”

He remained silent.

“Nathan.”

He muttered something unintelligible.

“ _Nathan_.”

“I just kinda, wake up when I wake up and, sleep when I sleep.”

“... You need lights.”

“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw I don't proof read so if something is off - aside from my struggling attempts at their fucked up speech patterns- let me know.


	7. So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine day 10

“Sos, youse still don’ts got lights?” asked Skwisgaar. 

Nathan scoffed. “Will you guys shut up about it already? You’re like my parents.”

“Yeahs wells, we can’ts sees you ons dee webscam soooo… Gets lights.”

Nathan grumbled and moved from the bed to his desk and turned on the small lamp. The light he looked like the tall dark stranger you see out of the corner of your eye under a streetlight who disappears when you turn to look, rather than the staticky shadow that’s only detectable when it moves that you see when you’re trying to sleep.

“Sos…” Skwisgaar sighed, they were running out of topics to bullshit about. “How’s the lyrics writings stuffs goinks?”He decided to risk genuine conversation over more silence.

Nathan slumped down in his chair and crossed his arms. “It’s not. I’ve written stuff, like a lot, but none of it is uhhh… good? Or at least, not good for Dethklok. Maybe if we did some uh, some sorta...” Nathan gestures one hand in the air and looked to the ceiling for an answer. “Like an avante-garde goth, uhhm, industrial metal album or something? I don’t know.”

Skwisgaar hummed his sympathies and thought about how an avante-garde goth industrial metal guitar solo would sound.

“So, have you written anything new?”

“Eugh a fews. Mostlies Is just play’ngs old songs froms whens I’ds fiersts beens learnings de guitars.”

“Hm. I was listening to some old stuff too.”

“Hej, does youse know whos was listnings to Evanescence yesterdays? I tinks its was Moirderface buts Pickles was clickxing tings whens de musics stopped.”

“Uhhh, no idea.” Nathan lied. They had all been listening to the same playlist. Toki and Skwisgaar could appreciate some of the technical aspects of Evanescence but neither of them understood the appeal. They just don’t _get it_. 

Skiwsgaar sighed again as the conversation came to a lull.

Nathan cleared his throat. “So uh, do you think you could like, play me one of the pieces you wrote?”  
Skwisgaar perked up at the request. “Reallys?”

“Yeah, it might help me with the writing process. It’ll give me something to uh, focus on while I write so i don’t go off course. Like an anchor.” 

“Okey! Lets me gets the amps sets up.” Skwisgaar nearly jumped out of his seat.

Nathan stretched and pulled out a notepad and pen. Then he relaxed, taking a deep breath, and listened to Skwisgaar shuffle around his room setting up for his audience of one.


	8. the end of lock down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quaratine day 12

Charles had finally decided to grace the band with his presence over a conference call and make believe he cared about how they were doing after being forcibly locked up in a submarine. Or rather, that’s what he was being accused of by five grumpy adult men; none of whom could comprehend that he has other responsibilities and people, employees and investors alike, to take care of besides them.

Charles was letting them yell and complain and bitch at him. It was better that they tire themselves out before he tried explaining anything else. Once they started quieting down to a level of grumbling and snide comments he pulled out the meeting agenda.

“Anyway, the quarantine period is almost up for the band and I, along with all of your fans and more importantly the record, would appreciate it if the band did a short live stream. Nothing too ambitious uh, just a short intro, a few songs and a little outro promoting social distancing and promoting the new line of Dethklok face masks.”

“We's ams sellings facemask?” asked Skwisgaar.

“Yes, I uh, sent out an email with several designs for the band to vote on. But everyone, except Toki, ignored it. Which is why, of the five designs available, we’re selling one with deady bears, another with kittens wearing spike collars, and another,” Charles sighed, “with ‘sexy pin-up ladies but covered in a blood splatter’.”

“That last one schounds aweschome.” said Murderface, because of course.

“And the other two are a print with the dethklok logo and just ‘Dethklok’ written in different colors. So,” Charles said sharply, trying to keep them on topic, “I need you boys to create a set list of about five to seven song so that we can get the stream set up by this coming Saturday. So you’ll have about five days to practice together once your quarantine ends.”

“Sos yous gonna bes here on Mondays?” asked Toki.

“Uh, well,” Charles faltered, caught off guard. “Well I- uh, no. No. I’m probably not going to be on the dethsub at all, or at least not until things level out.”

“So ya really are j’st leaving us here!? Wow. What a surprise.” Pickles said sardonically.

“That is such a robot move.” Nathan harrumphed. 

And thus, a new round of bitching started. Luckily for Dethklok, this wasn’t a video call so Charles couldn’t see their visible disappointment. 

Charles of course, could tell they were upset. He had managed them plenty long enough and close enough to figure out the difference between their genuine complaints and their lash-outs- not that the difference mattered when they made physical threats. But he knew they wouldn’t understand why he couldn’t just come and go from the dethsub. He’d explained the basics but if they really understood what was happening in the world, he didn’t know what they would do. Would he be able to handle them and keep them safe or would they go rogue? 

That’s why he’d had their internet access and outside contact closely monitored.


	9. They're loose!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 13

Nathan was laying in bed, half asleep, enjoying the comfort of his pillow. Most of his imprisonment had been spent like this since he didn’t have the inspiration to write, couldn’t see a majority of his room with no light, and had limited internet access- Murderface was actually right for once, he could watch porn but other odd sites were blocked. But right now his sheets were fresh, free of chip crumbs and sweat. He could just lay there, doing nothing, and not stress out about how he’d been doing literally nothing for so long that he couldn’t help but think about everything he could or should be until his brain reached the point that it stopped and he couldn’t think of anything anymore.

_ThudthudtThudTHUD_

_SLAM_

_THUDTHUD_ \- “Nathans!”

Nathan’s eyes jolted open but his body didn’t move.

“Nathans, gets up, youse gonna miss breaksfast!” Toki grabbed Nathan’s arm, trying to get him to sit up.

Nathan starred at Toki but didn’t move.  
Toki’s face wrinkled in confusion as Nathan starred, unmoving. He stopped pulling and let Nathan’s arm drop. “Whats? You don’ts want breaksfast?”

“Toki,” Nathan began, “how did you get in my room?”

Toki looked behind him, then back at Nathan. “Is used the door, ams not locked.”

“It wasn’t locked…” Nathan’s brain was slowly putting together the pieces, “so… if it’s not locked, that means…”

“The quarentines ams over todays.”

“Oh! So like,” Nathan sat up, “when you say breakfast you mean there’s food I can eat in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, that’s what’s I beens sayings. You wants somes or not?” Toki, whose brain was currently operational, was getting annoyed. Yeah, he wanted to eat breakfast with all his friends after two weeks being physically apart. But he also had pancakes to get to while they were still warm.

“Yeah, I do,I just uh, I need... clothes first?” 

“Okays, wells, sees ya in a minutes den.” Toki took off, he didn’t have time to waste. 

Meanwhile Nathan slowly remembered how society functioned. _When you go somewhere with other people to eat you wear clothes. When you wake up in the morning you take a piss, but you also wash your face and brush your hair. And your teeth? But I’m going to eat breakfast now… Whatever._

Being fully dressed and somewhat cleaner, Nathan stepped out of his room for the first time in two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan to write anything after midnight and especially didn't expect to post it so... here's that I guess


	10. Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine drinking with friends

“Dood, we should totally do a sub-crawl t’ celebrate.”

“A sub-crawl?”

“Yeah, ya know like,” Pickles stopped to swallow the bacon he’d been chewing, “set up a bunch a’ rooms wit’ booze and drug and get fuckin’ wasted.”

“Oh! Oh, hell yeah. Do we have enough stuff for it?”

“I’ve got, SO MUCH. Jus’, that is my entire room right now.”

“Oh, _really_? Because I thought you schaid that all of it was for you? Which was why I couldn’t have any, **when I fucking asked days ago**!”

Pickles ignored Murderface’s angry glare- which was really more of a pout anyway- “Yeh, well, I changed my mind. You guys up for it?”

\---

Pickles marched back to his room after breakfast with a few klokateers in tow. They were told how many stations there would be, what drugs and alcohol were to be placed at each station, and the general flight path of the crawl. The rest, as in how to arrange and serve the accoutrements and what rooms to actually set up in, was left to them. Dethklok had more important things to do; like playing scrabble before lunch while pregaming with some mimosas.

\----

Dethklok was escorted to the first stop on the lowest deck. Several maintenance terminals along the walls had been blockaded with a hodgepodge of spare furniture and spare metal bars welded into a make fence. It looked as if the klokateers had prepared for a horde of underwater zombies who were going to claw their way into the submarine and not for a drinking party. But it _was_ a Dethklok party…

They were relegated to the center of the room, where only the control panel for the liquid oxygen pods remained accessible. A small table had been covered in shot glasses with one, overfull double shot glass in the middle, and a new package of ping pong balls. Pickles picked up the package and pulled out two balls.

“Alright! We’re playing shot slap, so gather round!”

“Oh god, we’re schtarting with schlap cup?” William approached the table like it might bite him.

“Looks likes youse will bez the foirsts one to passings out this time,” said Skwisgaar, smirking and taking a ball from Pickles. “Yous sucks sos bads at this games.” He rounded the table, excited that he might not be the first one to pass out for once. 

“I don’t schuck at it! I just have bad luck. Besides,” he swiped the other ball from Pickles and pointed it at Skwisgaar, “I could lose twice and still last longer than you!” 

“Hey, Pickle, What’s kinds of booze ams these?” Toki had crouched at the edge of the table and was staring at the shot glasses intently. Very few of them were filled with the same color liquor.

“I dunno,” Pickles shrugged, facing the table, “I told ‘em to surprise me.”

“Wait, so,” Nathan picked up a glass filled with a vibrant blue, “you don’t actually know what these are filled with?”

Pickles picked up the two empty shot glasses and handed them to Skwisgaar and Murderface. “I mean, s’all stuff I had, but yeah. Any shot ya pick could be anything.”

“That’s brutal.”

“Starts!” shouted Skwisgaar as he started trying to bounce the ball into his shot glass.

“Hey! That’s fucking cheap!” Murder face scrambled to get in position, and almost got two throws in before the other glass was passed to Toki.


	11. Lower Deck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...the saga continues?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept skipping words while typing so just note that I don't proofread :p and some sentences may be off. If you tell me I will fix them but I have never re-read my writing and i don't intend to start.

Pickles sunk his ball and batted Murderface’s shot glass off the table, causing even more glass to shatter on the floor. 

“Shit.” Murderface downed a shot as Pickles passed the other glass and ball to Nathan.

The game had gotten intense. The table was almost empty. Pickles was getting better with each shot he took— from his own bottle of vodka of course, he didn’t lose at slap cup, hitting things and drinking were part of his job. And Murderface was suffering the consequences. So when he saw Nathan get the ball in and pass the glass back to Pickles, he panicked. He slammed the ping pong ball on the table causing it to bounce too far, and bounce up high enough to land in the overfull double shot in the middle.

His face and heart sank, as the rest of the band cheered. He lifted the glass and the chanting started.

“Bitch, cup! Bitch, cup! Bitch, cup!” They clapped with each syllable.

He drank down the double shot and the clapping dissipated into normal applause as pickles refilled the glass with vodka— it had been tequila.

The game resumed. And Pickles continued to fuck him over.

But in a rare stroke of luck, Skwisgaar ended up taking the losing double shot. So he didn’t technically lose the game but he might as well have. Not including Pickles supplementary vodka: he drank the most, Toki, Skwisgaar, and Pickles drank about the same, and Nathan drank the least. Brooding over this fact, Murderface slumped into one of the control chairs.

\----

Nathan grabbed one of the mostly empty liquor bottles that had been stashed in a box. Stupid Murderface couldn’t throw for shit, and now he had to play catch up.He should have grabbed a bottle at the beginning like Pickles.

He hadn’t spent much time down here. While everyone else did a bunch of recording in odd places, he did all of his in the sub’s studio. He stared at the liquid oxygen pods and took a drink.

“Ams happies we don’ts gottas record in de pods,” said Toki walking up to one of the pods. “Alreadies spends too much times crampped in de bedsroom. Don’ts need t’ be in a fucksins tube.” 

“Yeah. Recording in there probably sucks, huh. I’m mean, it looks cool but, uhh, being stuck in there’s gotta be pretty claustrophobic.”

“Kautstrolophobics,” Toki stepped into the pod, “buts yous can sees the entires ocean.” Toki’s arms made wide sweeping motions about the inside of the pod before his legs seemingly gave out and he slid to the floor.

“Yeah, I guess it would be more, uhhh, agoraphobic? Or like, both or something else—”

“Nate! You gotta try this!” Pickles shouted.

Nathan turned around to see Pickles by the box of discarded bottles, and Skwisgaar bent over gagging. “What is it?”

He held up a half-full bottle and shook it around. “I mixed all the booze together!”

“Oh that sounds awful,” Nathan was already walking over, “gimme a taste.”

\----

Skwisgaar gathered himself enough to take a seat next to Murderface. The drink didn’t kill him which was good, but it meant he had to live with that taste in his mouth for a while. He knew better. Never try anything Pickles makes. It’s always a mistake. He knew better. 

Murderface was pouting and Toki spacing out sitting in the pod. So he decided to poke at the control console. Afterall, the last time he was down here he was able to push all of the buttons. Suddenly, the pod with Toki in it shut. This caused him to cry out in surprise, which caught Murderface’s attention.

“Hey,” Murderface leaned over, “how’d you do that?”

“I dunno, just hits a bunch a’ stuffs and sees whats happens.”

And so he did; and much to Toki’s dismay the pod lit up and started filling with liquid oxygen.

“C’mon, we’re going to the next stop!”

Startled, they both got up from the console and started walking out. Well, Murderface did. Skwisgaar couldn’t help but press the biggest red button before leaving.


End file.
